


Huckleberry

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's POV, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Dean calls on a hunter he met a few months ago for help on a hunt while Sam is off helping Mary. The more time Dean spends with her, the more he wants her. Or, How Dean would react to a hot chick fangirling over the things he fanboys over.~~~~~~~~~~~I clear my throat. Why is my throat so fuckin’ dry? “So, Sammy’s down in Louisiana helpin’ our mom clear a vamps’ nest in Shreveport, and I just got a bead on a possible ghost possession in Billings, Montana. Wanna ride shotgun on it for me?” Please, don’t be busy.“Sure. I’ll be your Huckleberry.”I blink a few times, not sure if I heard her right. “What?” Well, that came out a lot harsher than what I meant.“Sorry. It’s a Tombstone quote. Just means I’ll be your sidekick on this.”She did! She fuckin’ quoted Doc Holliday at me! Why is that such a turn on? “Yeah. All right. Uh, awesome. I’ll meet you in Montana.”





	Huckleberry

My thumb hovers over the ‘Call’ button. Not because I’m nervous. I don’t _get_ nervous. I hesitate because she might not want to hear from me. _She_ hasn’t called _me_ and she’s had my number for almost two months and, yeah okay, I did tell her to call me if she needed help with a hunt when I gave her the digits but I thought I was pretty obvious that I wanted to keep in touch regardless.

I take a breath and send the call through. “Hello?” Her voice is like fuckin’ honey.

“Hey, y/n!” Dial down the enthusiasm, dude _._ “It’s Dean... Winchester.”

“I know.” She chuckles. “What’s up?”

I clear my throat. Why is my throat so fuckin’ dry? “So, Sammy’s down in Louisiana helpin’ our mom clear a vamps’ nest in Shreveport, and I just got a bead on a possible ghost possession in Billings, Montana. Wanna ride shotgun on it for me?” Please, don’t be busy.

“Sure. I’ll be your Huckleberry.”

I blink a few times, not sure if I heard her right. “What?” Well, that came out a lot harsher than what I meant.

“Sorry. It’s a _Tombstone_ quote. Just means I’ll be your sidekick on this.”

She did! She fuckin’ quoted Doc Holliday at me! Why is that such a turn on? “Yeah. All right. Uh, awesome. I’ll meet you in Montana.”

“I’ll text when I’m an hour out. Send me what you’ve got on the case.”

“Totally.” I roll my eyes as I hang up the phone.’Totally’? Who _am_ I?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n looks too fuckin’ good in her Fed suit. I can’t fuckin’ concentrate, she looks so good. I’m glad she took the initiative with the interview ‘cause I’m lost on everything the vic just said, I’m too focused on how y/n’s pencil skirt hugs her curves, how I wish that split in the back went higher, how I wanna grab the thing and just rip it-

“Agent Page!”

I jerk as she interrupts my daydream. “Yeah! Sorry. What?”

“Give the girl your card. I left mine in my other jacket.”

I nod and clear my throat as I reach into my inner pocket and pull out a business card. I hand it over and smile tightly before I walk away. Shit. I zoned out for the entire interview. Now I have to figure out what was said without admitting to y/n that I blanked out. “You okay, Winchester?”

Nope. Not at all. Acting like a little boy with a crush. “Peachy.” I lie.

“You’re distracted. Distracted’s as good as dead in our profession.” She reminds me. No shit. She leans against Baby’s door, looking over the roof at me. “I can take this hunt if you need, Dean. If you’ve got more important shit on your mind, I’d be more than happy to finish this up by myself.”

I sigh. “Nah. I think I just need to eat something.” Her. I need to eat her. Get between her thighs and just feast. “I’ll drop you at the motel and grab grub. You hungry?” She’s looking at me like she knows it’s bullshit, but she doesn’t call me on it.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to a burger and a beer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay. I can do this. I'm a grown man. Just go in, eat food, hunt monster. Ignore the boner. I can do this. I take a deep breath, open the door and enter the motel room. She’s nowhere to be seen, but the bathroom door’s closed. “Hey, I’m back! Hope you like bacon cheeseburgers and shitty fries.” I call out. I turn to the TV as I drop the bag on the table. Sharon Stone looking hungover as fuck greets my eyes. Leo DiCaprio being snarky. _The Quick and the Dead_. ‘95 version. “What’cha watchin’?” Maybe she just stumbled on one of my favorite nineties gunslinger movies.

“Oh, you can change that, if you want! I’ve seen it a million times!” She calls from the bathroom. The door opens a few moments later and she steps out, rubbing wet hands on her jeans.

“You like westerns?” I ask, tryin’ not to fanboy all over her.

She shrugs, sits down at the table. “Some. Not all. I’m kinda picky about ‘em. I’m not a big fan of John Wayne or Clint Eastwood, but almost any Sam Eliot movie, I’m there… and if you’ve got a badass gunslinging woman in your movie… gimme.” Holy shit, she just did ‘grabby hands’. “My dad liked Louis L’amour, you know, so I watched a lot of, like, _Shadow Riders_ and _The Sacketts_ with him.”

She laughs. “And I know it’s not a gunslinger western, but I really liked Mel Gibson’s _Maverick_. Shit was hilarious ”

I smile as I pull a burger out of the bag. This woman gets better every time she opens her mouth. Badass, hot, smart, she likes westerns. I am officially a little boy with a crush. “Shoulda known when you quoted Doc Holliday that you liked westerns.”

“Oh, _Tombstone_ is my jam. If I could only watch one western the rest of my life, it'd be _Tombstone_.”

“Marry me.” Shit.

I laugh it off as her eyes go wide. “No, sorry. Just… kidding. It’s just not often I find a chick who loves westerns.”

She laughs, too, but there’s a blush creeping up her neck and that’s fuckin’ amazing. “Come on.”

Come on. Exactly, Dean, come on. You’re Dean Winchester. You can do this. Remember how to flirt, man. “No, I mean… it’s not the _hottest_ thing about you, but it’s up there.” That blush just deepened. Is she interested? If she’s interested, why the hell didn’t she call me? “The hottest thing about you’s gotta be the flippy thing you do with your butterfly knife.” I do love that flippy thing. “And your eyes are a close second.”

“Oh, shut up.” She snorts. It’s a cute little piggy noise and jesus, what is this woman doing to me?

“No, really. You’ve got the most expressive eyes, y/n.” All right. I _do_ remember how to do this. “And I gotta say… you are really cute when you blush.”

She shakes her head, looks away from me. “What are you doing?”

“I’m flirting with you.” I answer, honestly.

“ _Why_?”

Okay, that’s not what I was expecting. My eyebrows scrunch together. “What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Why would you flirt with me?”

“Uh… why _wouldn’t_ I?”

“Because you’re Dean Winchester and I’m nobody.”

I blink a few times, lick my lips. “Wait, did you not call me because you thought I was out of your league?”

She sits up straight and looks fuckin’ bewildered. “Did you _want_ me to call? I thought you just thought I might need help hunting.”

I chuckle and I know I’m smiling big ‘cause she _is_ interested. She’s fuckin’ interested! “I have been waiting for you to call since about two minutes after I put my number in your phone, y/n. You… ha, I’m so… I _really_ wanted you to call, but hey, we’re here now.” I bite my lip and gesture at the TV. “So, let’s eat some burgers, watch Sharon Stone kick ass and let’s see where the night takes us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, we’re both sitting on my bed, burgers finished, soggy fries in the bottom of the trash. We’ve both got a beer in our hands and we’re having a conversation about outlaws. How lucky am I?

“Favorite outlaw town?” I ask.

“Carlsbad.” She answers.

I shake my head. “New Mexico?”

She laughs. “I know. It’s not what people think of when they think western outlaw towns, but see, Carlsbad used to be Vaughn, New Mexico and it was called that because the Vaughn Boys would run there to hide out when the heat was too high on ‘em.” She takes a drink of her beer. “There’s another place called Vaughn about two hundred miles North, but the original was where Carlsbad is now.”

“The Vaughn Boys? Never heard of ‘em.”

“You wouldn’t have. They never got famous. They were just a family of con men and poker hustlers. I only know about them because they were family. Seems I come by my lying and knife skills honestly.”

“That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. If you think that’s cool… my great uncle was a cattle rustler, too.”

“No shit, really?”

“Yeah. According to Nevada law, anyway.” She smiles and her eyes light up. “See, back in the seventies, he went to this cattle auction in Churchill County, bid on Lot 72, a hundred steer, and won, but he didn’t actually have the money in the bank.” I smile. She obviously loves this story. She’s fuckin’ glowing about telling it. “But Uncle Charles was a smooth talker, so he convinced the auction house to give him two business days to come up with the cash, but the idiots gave him a bill of sale even though he hadn’t actually paid for them, yet. He presented it to the guys at the ranch, loaded up the cattle and left to sell ‘em in Utah for a twenty percent profit. Of course, a large chunk of that went to his lawyer when the auction house had him arrested for rustling, but… the family got a story out of it.”

She looks at me across the three feet of distance between us. She looks almost shy and my stomach tightens. “I love hearing your stories.”

She taps her fingers against her bottle. “You got any cool stories?”

I lick my lips. “I got a few. But I was thinking that you and me, we could make a story together.” Was that smooth? I don’t fuckin’ know, because this woman is almost impossible to fuckin’ read.

But now she’s blushing again. Thank god. “What kind of story?”

I smirk. “A love story? Or, if you’d rather skip the fluffy shit, a Penthouse Forum article?” Please don’t skip the fluffy shit.

“So, my options here are Harlequin romance or smut rag story?” She says it like she’s offended, but she’s blushing and smiling and fuck, she’s beautiful.

“Well, I mean, we live horror novels every day. I’d be happy to change it up with you.”

“What kinda dumbass chick would say ‘no’ to being in a love story with a man like you?” Yes! She leans forward, drops her beer on the side table. I don't even look away from her as I do the same. “But I'm not interested in a one-shot, Dean. If we're going to write ourselves a story… I want an epic.”

I lick my lips and smile. “Are we talkin’ _Odyssey_ or maybe _Discworld_? That’s epically-” She presses her lips to mine before I’m done talking. Her lips are soft, her hands grab at my shirt. I grab her head, caress her cheek with my thumb as my fingertips hold her hair back. She slides her hands up around my neck, her fingers twist a bit in the hair at the nape of my neck and I groan because how does she know how to get me revving already?

“Holy shit.” She pants, pulling back. Her fingers keep tugging lightly at my hair. I really gotta ask how she pegged me for a hair-pulling kink already.

“What?” I ask, staring at her lips.

“That was the hottest kiss I’ve ever had.”

I can’t help the smile. “Yeah, it was pretty high on my list, too. I can think of ways to make it hotter.”

“Oh, you _can,_ can you?” I nod and reach for the bottom of her shirt, which is this pretty powder blue thing and I don't know what it's made of but it's super soft. “Gonna get me naked, huh?” She smirks as she says it.

“Not naked. Just shirtless.” I lift the shirt over her head slow, teasing myself as much as her. I just don't want this to go fast. She’s wearing a red and black plaid bra and it has one of those tiny black bows on the lace between the cups. It’s so fuckin’ cute.

“It’s not one of my sexy bras. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting anyone to see me today, you know, without a shirt.”

“It’s adorable.” I smile. “It’s so you, y/n.” I go to pull my own t-shirt off, but y/n slaps my hands.

“You got to disrobe _me_ , I wanna disrobe you.” I lick my lips and smirk as I move my hands away. She lifts my shirt as slow as I did hers, but she lets her fingers run across my skin as she goes along. I close my eyes and groan. See, this is why we’re goin’ shirtless. Simple fuckin’ skin contact. Takes a kiss to a completely different level.

She drops my shirt to the side of the bed and stares at me. “Holy shit.” Her outburst makes me laugh.

“Likewise, princess.” I wrap my hands around her forearms and pull her into my lap. She’s straddling my thighs, her thighs spread wide and her knees digging into the mattress. She puts her hands on my shoulders to adjust herself on my lap, warm fuckin’ hands, and I pull her closer, press my lips to hers again. She pushes herself closer, her tits pressing into my chest and, fuck, I’m hard, but I just wanna kiss her for a while.

‘Cause y/n can _kiss_. Once she gets into it, once she puts her everything into making out with me, she’s using teeth and tongue, fingers in my hair, if her legs weren’t spread like they are, she’d be grinding against me and I’d probably have a cum stain on the inside of my slacks. I’m barely keepin’ my shit together, as it is. With y/n, it seems that kissing isn’t just fun foreplay… it’s a sex act of its own.

I’m considering shifting our position when she reads my mind, pulling back from me, knocking my legs apart, straddling my right thigh. I lift it enough for her to get purchase between her pussy and my leg and I wanna watch when she starts fuckin’ ridin’ my thigh, but now she’s kissing me again, only this time she’s moaning, loud. This woman’s gonna make me jizz in my pants.

I put a hand on her collarbone and push her back, take a steadying breath. “Baby, you wanna fuck yourself on my thigh, let's do this right.” I grab her waist and twist us until my legs drop off the side of the mattress and my feet hit the floor. I use the grip I've got on her waist to move her back and forth. She moans, her eyelids flutter, she digs her fingernails into my shoulders and leans forward, lips brushing against my ear.

“What if I wanna fuck myself on your dick?” She whispers and I fuckin’ shiver.

Fuck. Me.

I force myself to chuckle. “So, I guess we’re going with Penthouse, then?”

She pulls back and looks me in the eyes, smiling that sexy, lusty smile. “Penthouse Comix. 32 issues. Epic and sexy.”

I scoff. “You read naughty comics?”

She climbs off of me and smirks, reaching behind her back. “Let you in on a secret, Dean. Chicks dig porn, too.” She pulls her bra off, drops it to the floor next to our shirts. That’s a fuckin’ sight, but I’m not even done admiring her breasts when she starts pulling her jeans down her legs. She doesn’t even unbutton the things, she’s so fuckin’ eager. You better believe I’m eager, too, but I watch her ‘cause I don't want to miss a moment of her strippin’ down for me. I might miss something like her black lace panties hitting the carpet.

I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “Yeah? So, what's your favorite… um, genre?” I ask as she grabs the waistband of _my_ pants, unbuttons them and starts to pull the zipper down. Slow as she's going, she suddenly doesn't seem as eager.

“Of porn?”

“Yeah! What do you search for when you pull up PornHub?” Am I trying to distract myself with conversation so I don't blow my load as soon as she _looks_ at my dick? Yes. Should I have picked a different topic? Definitely.

“Really depends. I mean, who wants to watch the same shit over and over? Sometimes it's babysitters. I like how the porn stars portray themselves as innocent so badly. You know, these women with shaved pussies and tattoos across their pubic bones acting like they don’t know what to do with a dick. Sometimes it's classroom flicks. You know, hot young teachers and coaches who can't fuckin’ control themselves around girls in mini-skirts and crop tops that would get them sent home at a real school.”

She leans back, rests her hands on my thighs, and looks up into my eyes. “Every once in a while, I'll binge a bunch of BDSM vids. And, at least once a year, I get the hankerin’ to see some anime chick get destroyed by a tentacle monster.”

“Shit! Stop. Shut up.” I jerk away from her, shake my head, close my eyes. That's fuckin’ overwhelming.

“I mean, I don't… like… that's not something I-” She stutters. She's backpedaling. She thinks I'm disgusted with her.

“Do you have any idea how much _shit_ my little brother has given me for watchin’ hentai?” I open my eyes, feeling a bit sad because of the look of shame on her face. “Like, since the first time he checked my browser history.”

I bite my lip. “Look, I don't usually click with a chick on so many different levels, so I'm a bit overwhelmed and I'm really attracted to you and I'm tryin’ not to cum in my pants, okay, so just give me a minute?”

She smirks at me, the shame gone in a flash. “Well, then, why don't you just take off the pants? Can't cum in your pants if you aren't wearing any.”

“You just wanna get me naked.”

“Well, what I wanna do with you is incredibly difficult with clothes on, Dean, though not impossible and I’m not one to shy away from a challenge, so if you want-”

I jerk my hips up, tear my pants and boxers down and kick ‘em off. I smirk, feeling cocky when her eyes widen and go dark with lust. She was underestimating. “If I want what, y/n?” Her jaw drops just slightly. She closes her mouth, then licks her lips. “Words failin’ ya, sweetheart?”

She scoffs and leans forward, scratching her nails up my thighs as she presses her lips to mine. “I don’t need words.” She mumbles against my mouth before moving to straddle me again, nothing between us this time, and I hiss as she rubs her pussy lips along my dick. She’s so fuckin’ wet and warm and I just want to sink into her. “But I _might_ need some prep to get that monster inside me.” She whispers in my ear and I groan.

“Aw, come on. It’s not like I’m Ron Jeremy or anything.” I joke.

She makes this disgusted noise and leans back, slaps her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t ruin the mood by bringing up that hairy Italian dude.”

I smile at her, put my hand in her hair and pull her in for a kiss. And then I twist us again, lay her back on the bed, and trail my hand down her body. “Let me make it up to ya.” My middle finger slides into her pussy and it’s easy ‘cause she’s fuckin’ _wet_. I slide it out and add my first finger, press my thumb against her clit, just enough to make her clench around my fingers, and fuck, she’s got a strong fuckin’ grip when she’s clenching.

I scissor her open a bit, watch her face as her eyes flutter closed and she bites her lip and I lean down to lick one of her nipples, running my tongue in circles around it, biting lightly when it puckers up. When she starts to squirm, grabbing at her other breast, I add a third finger. “Fuck, Dean.” She moans and I really just want to spread her open and slide right in.

Instead, I pull my fingers out of her and bring them to my lips. They’re covered in her wet juices and I wait until she opens her eyes to look at me before I suck them into my mouth and clean them off. My dick twitches at the taste. She’s got this nice sour aftertaste. “You taste real good, y/n.”

“Please, tell me you have condoms. This event will have a very unsatisfying end if you don’t have any condoms.” She pants.

“Why do _I_ have to have the condoms?” I ask, but I’m already on my way to my duffle.

“Because you’re Dean Winchester, prone to picking up random women in bars across the country and if you don’t have a stash of condoms, there’s no way you don’t have a gazillion venereal diseases?”

I laugh as I grab a rubber. “A: I haven’t really been that prone to picking up random women in bars across the country since… well, since I was hangin’ with Crowley.” I drop back onto the bed, between her legs. “And B: I’m clean. Got tested a month ago.”

“You’re clean ‘cause you’ve got the condoms. See? I was right.” She snatches the condom from my fingers and rips the foil open. “You even spring for the expensive ones.”

“You try usin’ a LifeStyles condom on a dick like mine a few times and you learn real fast that no price is too high to avoid a broken rubber.” She bites her lip as she rolls it on, and I love that her fingers barely touch around my girth. Small hands, big dick, it’s a great combo. “You ready?”

She buries her hands in my hair, licks into my mouth, leaning back and pulling me over her body. I run my hands down her body, kiss her as I slip the tip of my dick into her. That is a tight fuckin’ fit. Her legs wrap around me, cross behind my back, like she’s tryin’ to get me in her faster. I push up onto my arms. “Stop bein’ so impatient, baby. If I go as fast as we want, I’ma hurt you.”

She smirks. “A little bit of pain never hurt nobody.” I chuckle, but then her face goes serious. “But maybe I like a little pain.” She’s not the only one.

“A little? Like, _how_ little?”

“Just fuck me, Winchester.” She says, and I kiss her again… and slam my hips forward. She screams into my mouth, legs tightening around me like a vice, holding me still inside her.

“Thought you _wanted_ me to fuck you. Loosen your grip on me, woman.” I slap the outside of her thigh and she clenches around me and I was right that those muscles have a death grip. I slap her thigh again and chuckle when she moans. “Little bit of pain, huh?”

“Shut up, or I’m gonna pull your hair.” She growls, letting her legs uncross enough for me to move.

“I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that.” I mutter, kissing my way across her jawline as I pull out a little and slide back in. I roll my hips, give a few experimental thrusts, tryin’ to see what works best on her, before I settle into a good rhythm of slow, hard thrusts. She moans every time I bottom out, clenches around me as I pull out, slides her hand up the back of my head and twists her fingers in my hair. I’m tryin’ to control my breathing, control my heart rate ‘cause I know that it’s the best way to last, but I can’t lie to myself, or her. “Gonna cum.” I grunt.

She tugs harder on my hair and slides her free hand between us, rubbing at her clit. I lose control of my thrusts as I cum but I try to keep fuckin’ her through it so she can get there, too. I’ve gone half-mast when she clenches around me one last time, her inner muscles doing that fluttery thing when she cums with a sound straight out of a porno.

We kiss as I pull out and drop to the bed next to her. “Fuck.” We say it at the same time, then we both chuckle.

“That was…” I start.

“Yeah.” She sits up, kisses my cheek and rolls off the bed. “I’ma take a shower.”

“Want me to join you?”

“Not this time, Dean. You need to read up on my notes from this morning, since you were obviously too busy imagining fucking me to pay attention.” She slams the door behind her and as I clean myself up and get dressed music starts up over the sound of the shower and she starts singing along. “ _There’s a stranger in my bed. There’s a pounding in my head. Glitter all over the room. Pink flamingos in the pool._ ” Is that Katy Perry?

Oh, thank god. She’s _not_ perfect.


End file.
